anything she hoped that he would call on her.
It’s been a big day and I think that I’m ready to turn in so if you wouldn’t mind.
That was definite enough even for Eleanor so she pulled herself up from the couch, smoothed her dress and headed for the door.
You will need someone to look after Elvie won’t you. I’m happy to do it Eliot.
Of course he felt a little guilty but it was too good an offer to refuse.
Eleanor returned to her apartment. She could tell a good person when she came up against one and Eliot was a good person so why wouldn’t he meet her gaze when they were speaking to each other, why did he treat her like she was the kind of person who could not possibly understand his situation.
There was no need for cleavage now, so she turned on the gas heater and changed into her old track suit, windcheater and moccasins. Another night alone. She folded her legs up under her on the settee and reached across to the pile of books on her small round table. On top as usual was her bible, that had been her mother’s bible, presented to Olivia Dobson on the occasion of her confirmation, Nagambie Church of England 1950. Eleanor knew which page marker she wanted:
1 John 4:18-19 There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us.
Eleanor’s mother had always said that when you pray, don’t ask for things, don’t ask for good fortune. There are plenty of things that I could pray for but I’m not going to waste his time she said. God had too much on his plate without worrying about the likes of us. But Eleanor believed that she had already had some good fortune because Eliot had moved into her apartment block and she had been attracted to him instantly. The fact that he was a few years older wasn’t a minus,but he was intelligent and assured and she immediately began to hope. Only one thing annoyed her about Eliot, his ponytail. Couldn’t he see that he was too old for a ponytail, that it made him look a bit weird, half horse. Many times she was on the verge of saying something. It was very unlike her, but she bit her tongue.
She looked in the mirror every time before she climbed the stairs to his apartment. Was this the best she could look for him? The hair appointment, the new lipsick, show off her figure.But nothing had happened, worse, it seemed that Eliot wanted to get across the message that he had a never even considered that they could be very good friends. In fact he was downright rude at times. She could hear herself. Please bring him back safely, please help him to see me differently when he returns from India. She closed her bible, perfect love drives out fear. Her jaw went to her chest and she prayed.
7.
Around the time that Eliot stepped off the plane at Varanasi airport, and remembered that Jalal had said that the sun was hot in UttarPradesh, when he was searching the crowd of faces outside the airport for Jalal’s big head and that mango nose, Special was in Newmarket, Flemington Road, walking with his rolling limp, the swing of one thin leg after another, his earphones on and the music moving his body too. Special with his rat climbing up a ladder and the birthmark near his forehead that said every new day might deal you a new hand.
Special was an identity in Newmarket. Many locals would yell out to him in fun or derisively. How’s it going Special? What’s news Special? You must be kidding wearing shorts today, you just like showing off your tattoo. Be careful that rat doesn’t run up your shorts and bite your old fella. Where’s your black boyfriend, ya poofter. Get a proper haircut ya wanker. The world is made up of all kinds of people who will rub up together.
You could see Special any day walking the streets of Newmarket and outside Foodworks. Often he was with a black man, a very tall black man with a balding head. Most days sitting on his little fold out stool, earphones on, The Big Issue, only seven dollars, read all about Madonna, Rebel at Heart, thanks sir, have a great day. Today he had picked up the magazines at the depot and now he was walking home, enough time before he had to start, walking along in his bright pink shorts, singing along with The Ramones. He knew the lyrics off by heart.
Yeah, I want to be well
I wanna be well
I want my
LSD. Golly gee.
DDT, wowee!
Daddy’s broke
Holy smoke
My future’s bleak
Ain’t it neat
As he mumbled along he was thinking about where Absimil would be at this moment. Absimil had come along and stopped Special from thinking silly things, like that everyone hated him, like that he had nothing to offer any other human being, like that most people were bad. Absimil stopped him thinking silly things about the Sudanese, stopped him conjuring up images from films that he had watched, images of rolling sand dunes and Beduoin tribesmen on camels with rifles hanging from their shoulders, living in hide tents, their faces half covered to protect them from the sand blown by the wind. Handsome, protective, with piercing eyes. Absimil was not like that at all.
Most days Absimil told Special something about life in Sudan. It was he thought, probably like a debrief. The civil strife and the displacement camp outside of Malakal where nothing was as romantic as Beduoins in the desert. I was a child soldier what they call a lost boy he said. I defended my religion against the Islamists from the north. I have lost all of my family but I still count myself lucky. You can’t choose where you are born. At least I am educated and my family were not so poor and here I am in Australia, in Newmarket. Malakal one day, Melbourne the next. What a weird world we live in Special my friend, he liked to say.
Special swayed left into a laneway and left again into an easement. At the rear of the restaurant was a wooden fence that ran along the easement upon which someone had sprayed the outine of a penis and testicles. There was a metal gate. He put his hand through the opening in the gate and slid the snib out and pushed the gate open. The backyard was bare concrete except for a rotary clothes line in the middle which was hung full of tablecloths and napkins. Laksa Queen Malaysian Restaurant they said. On the back wall of the double story brick building were two doors, one shut, that led through into the restaurant via the kitchen and the other open to reveal a very dodgy toilet missing its lid. A wooden staircase led to the second floor of the building, at first climbing parallel with the back wall then at right angles, up to a wooden panel door with a padlock. Up on the landing, Special took the key to the padlock on a chain hanging from his belt loop and let himself in. It was colder than he thought and he would need a jacket if he was to sit on the street all day. He was home.
About two years ago when he had first moved down from Darwin he was sleeping rough and late one cold night he curled up on some cardboard in the doorway of the Laksa Queen restaurant. He chuckled now about the idea of sleeping in when you are sleeping rough but he had and when Thomas and Youixsie came to open up he was in their way. They were very kind to him; they understood that life was difficult for many people because where they had grown up a mob had burnt down their family store in what they called the ethnic tensions. Now they considered themselves lucky.
Quickly, Special had folded up his piece of cardboard and pushed the small pillow that he had fashioned from discarded clothes he found outside St. Vinnies, into his backpack. They talked away in their own language until when he had finished and went to say goodbye. They said that they had seen him walking the footpaths and seen him selling the magazines and there was a room upstairs at the back of their restaurant, very basic he must understand. Maybe in return he could do some odd jobs for them. They introduced themselves. My name is Special. They couldn’t have him scaring the customers away could they? They smiled. It was true that Special had been known to say that there were too many fucken Asians in Australia and this made it tough for Australian kids. He said thank you very much, I will accept your offer.
The back door opened onto a wide narrow room with a bench that almost spanned the far wall. On this bench there was a sink and a portable gas stove. We will give you something to cook in and something to eat off. A gas bottle too Thomas had said. On this wall there was a door too that led into the room where